


Vulcan Persuasion

by syredronning



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Dark, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MU SpockPrime finally gets what he has long waited for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulcan Persuasion

**Author's Note:**

> jlm121 ~~keeps stealing my time~~ keeps posting prompts I feel the incredible need to FILL RIGHT THEN, so here's another fic that I wrote for her in the [ISS Kink meme](http://community.livejournal.com/issenterprise/2144.html?thread=245088#t245088) last night. Prompt was:   
> _Spock!Prime in the Mirror Verse of Reboot is going through Pon Farr. He wants and wants badly, but who does he take. It would be entertaining to take Nu!Kirk or Nu!McCoy, but what about one who was denied to him in the past. How does Spock!Prime convince Christopher Pike, or is coerce a better term to become his bondmate._

The room is dark but Christopher Pike, Admiral of the Imperial Fleet, instantly knows that he's not alone. He doesn't move, tries to keep his breathing low while he reaches out with his left hand to the phaser that's always on the side of his bed.

Only, it's not there anymore.

If this it the time, then be it. He rises up on his elbows, coolly asking into the darkness, "Who are you?"

Not _what do you want_, because why should anyone come here in the night like a thief if not for assassinating him? A part of him is almost relieved; finally, the waiting would be over. In a moment, he'd feel the knife, or the phaser – he didn't care as long as it happened quickly.

"Go ahead and kill me," he orders when the silence persists. "What are you waiting for?"

A flashlight suddenly illuminates a face from below, multifaceted shadows on a demonic, _ancient_ face.

"I am not here to kill you, Admiral," the man says. The voice is dark and rough.

"Who are you?" Chris asks again, and the illuminated face moves closer. "And where's my bodyguard?"

"He's – asleep." The pause is telling. "Do you not recognize me?"

Chris frowns. "Should I?"

"I had hoped, Admiral."

Chris stares at the ghostly face, at last making the connection. "Spock."

"Indeed. I am pleased."

"I'm not. Get the hell out of my house."

The Vulcan's lips curl. "In all due respect - I will not, Admiral."

Chris sinks back into the cushion. "You want money? A ship?"

"I have everything I need, except for one thing."

"That being?"

"You." The Vulcan points the flashlight at him, and Chris screws his eyes shut in the glaring light, raising one hand for protection.

"Me?"

"I am in need. And I need you."

For a second, Chris chews on the words and the way the man delivers them; then he starts laughing. "You can't be serious," he manages a last. "You want to fuck me?"

"I will take you, in every way I can. Body and soul."

Chris laughs again. "You're sure you're at the right address? Because, in case you missed it –" he waves his hand towards his legs – "I'm a useless cripple. Sure you couldn't do better than that?" He can't take the situation serious at all. It's just too ridiculous, having a hundred-and-something year old guy standing in the middle of his bedroom and threatening to rape him.

"For eleven years, I have served as your first officer. You had my obedience; I offered you also my devotion, and you refused me. In the end I supported Kirk's plans to kill you and become your successor. But my feelings for you still exist."

"Feelings?" Chris barks. "You really got to be from another universe, because love doesn't matter around here."

"Love?" the old man replies. "There are so many more emotions than just this one – hate, anger, the desire to exert as much control over you as you have once exerted over your young, alien officer."

"Hate and love are just two sides of the same coin. And a Vulcan speaking about emotions like you is a nutcase," Chris states. The flashlight is still blinding him but for once he considers escape routes. Getting murdered would be a fitting way to go for an Admiral; getting fucked to death by a mentally disturbed doter definitely isn't.

The hand on his arm is burning hot. "I am not within my right mind. I am well aware of that. It is the reason I came here."

"Fuck off," Chris says; then there's a second hand on him, pressing him down into the cushions.

Chris might be a cripple but he still fights and takes joy in the few punches he's able to deliver. He loses anyway, though, ending with his hurting wrists captured above his head, and a hot, Vulcan body covering his own. Fingers settle on his face, and that's more disturbing than the large erection that's pressed against his groin.

"I'll kill you, bastard," he snarls. It's the last thing his brain is able to deliver for a rather long time.

*

"Come with me," Spock says, and a slight, painful twinge in his guts reminds Chris that four weeks ago, he would have laughed at the idea of following the man's orders.

Today, he doesn't have this option anymore; resistance is futile against a Vulcan bond that wrapped its tendrils around his mind, ready to perform the mental equivalent of strangling whenever he tries to disobey.

It's the same bond that makes him able to walk again, patching his wrecked-up brain stem with Vulcan control. It's a gift Spock can pull away any second, and sometimes he does, just to show he can.

"Admiral," Spock repeats, and he sounds almost impatient.

_Why don't you just say 'slave'?_ Chris thinks. He'd been forced to resign anyway – but he knows that Spock enjoys reminding him of the contrast between what he'd been and what he is now.

"Coming," he says and walks after him, his steps overly loud on the metal stairways that lead into the shuttle for New Vulcan.


End file.
